


Moons and Stars

by FLEISCHGEWEHR



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Rammstein
Genre: Altmer - Schneider, Argonian - Flake, Bosmer - Paul, Khajiit - Richard, M/M, Nord - Till, Unexpected Smut, Violence and magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:21:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29379867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FLEISCHGEWEHR/pseuds/FLEISCHGEWEHR
Summary: When one adventure ends, another always already awaits you around the corner.Everything about this robbery felt wrong but he still accepted the offer and made his way through wilderness and blizzard toward College of Winterhold in a hope to deal with the job quick and get rid of the growing anxiety. To his usual surprise, things got out of hands too quickly, twirling him into another situation he thought he never would find himself in.
Relationships: Paul Landers/Christoph Schneider | Doom
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Still not fully settled at the new role of being Archmage, Schneider was spending his evening going through correspondence and delving into consuming feeling of isolation.
> 
> \-----
> 
> Loosely based on Skyrim plot. Alduin never showed up, dragonborn doesn't exist, all guilds have their own heroes.  
> Inspired by Skyrim guild quest lines, Elder Scrolls Online and my imagination filled with useless knowledge of The Elder Scrolls lore. Everything bend to my will, so don't poke if something moves a bit away from actual TES events. 
> 
> Look for the notes at the end for explanation of some terminology.

A small hissing orb of light hit a stone wall of the tower and flew back, illuminating with its light blue glow the golden skin of a tall elf that was sitting behind a wooden table. He hid his nose in the fur collar of his jerkin on top of college's mage clothing and removed a strand of slightly longer curly hair behind a long pointy ear, picking a letter in his hands.

Past few days were unusually stormy with a blizzard continuously attacking the coast line and covering the college and nearby town of Winterhold with a thick white blanket. Worry started rising to the point that some of the teachers expressed their concern about town folks having a tough time dealing with the bad weather, and volunteered to go down to the town to see if any help can be given to save them from a cold and starving death. Surprisingly enough, the group of volunteers was met with a warm welcome from the town's people; they arrived just in time for a local gathering in a tavern when they discussed the possibility of asking the college for help.

This was pleasant news for the young Archmage. After all the tragedy that happened between the college and town, and especially after recent events that led to a change in leadership of the college, news about the town of Winterhold finally giving a chance to the college was pleasant and welcome.

Archmage Schneider finished reading another report of success from one of the volunteer teachers, and sealed the letter again, putting it away in a pile of official correspondence neatly stacked on the table. With a shaky sigh he sat back in his chair and delved deep inside his thoughts.

With half of the population gone to help the town and the other half busy maintaining the college itself, mages were mostly left to themselves, providing almost no communication to each other. Though to be fair, Archmage never was chatty and involved with the life of the students anyway. But the last couple of days felt different, almost as if a storm were circling not only around the coastline but around he himself, building even thicker walls between him and other people. In other words, it was getting pretty lonely.

Closing his eyes he let himself feel the blizzard, listening to wind howling outside the dome-shaped tower, making the glass window whine from the pressure.  
He let his hand lay down on the surface of the table, focusing, feeling elements that are so familiar to him circling around. Even through a thick wall of stone he could feel the power of nature. So he let it slip inside him, making his bones chill and muscles tremble with cold. He exhaled, letting out a small cloud of cold breath and focused harder, feeling crystals starting forming around his fingers.

In the next moment, with a swift hand motion, he let an ice shard fly from his hand landing into the wall on the other side of the tower, shattering into thousands of pieces, and followed by the sudden clap of a book hitting the floor.

He wondered if he missed and hit one of the bookshelves by accident. But turning around he saw that no, the remains of shard were stuck high in the wall, already starting drip down onto the stone floor. What dropped was his evening book that usually was resting on a small table in front of the alchemy garden in the middle of the tower.

His eyes moved around, looking for company that could cause this to happen but nobody else was in his chamber. 

Or so his eyes thought. 

With a whisper, barely moving his lips, he casted a detection of life spell and instantly noticed a cloud of warmth from a being firmly pressed against the wall not far from the book, unmoving and quiet as night.

Giving the new information a long moment of thought, Archmage calmly got up and approached his book, picking it up and checking the sides for any visible damage. 

The cloud wasn't moving.

_Not an assassin, that's a relief._

He gently put the book back on the table and turned to face his guest. In the next moment his hand swiftly reached forward, tensing with great effort. He heard the cloud yelp in surprise as he pulled the unwanted guest up in the air and restricted him with his magic. A moment later a hood slipped down from the intruder's head, disrupting an invisibility enchantment and revealing a small Bosmer hiding underneath it.

Archmage scoffed but tried to keep his face neutral and cold. What he saw wasn't as good of news as he thought a moment ago. The smaller elf was wearing armor he read about but never saw before with a bow hanging behind his back that he only heard rumors about. Yet he knew precisely that in front of him wasn't just an ordinary petty thief, but a real Nightingale. The agent of Nocturnal.

The Bosmer was looking at him with big, dark blue eyes and a face full of surprise, though archmage couldn't tell if it was genuine or one of the tricks to try and make him relax his hold.

Slowly he approached his guest, still firmly holding him with the spell. Archmage started looking around him, patting his black-as-night armor trying to find hidden pockets or bags with stuff he might already have stolen.

Suddenly a head decorated with a short mess of reddish hair dropped the horrified expression and swapping it with annoyance.  
"Oi! Fancy pants, that's not nice! Not nice at all to go around somebody's pockets like this!" 

Archmage crooked his head to look at the cocky thief and was met with a big smile and a wink.  
"At least pour me some of your magic wine first, eh?"

Schneider was taken aback by such impudence. He blinked at the nightingale in his hold and frowned, trying to figure out the thief's game. After a short moment the decision was made and he released the magic.

"Very well. I suppose I can share a glass with the likes of you in return for a conversation." Bosmer gracefully dropped on the ground, receiving an impressed raise of a brow from the tall mage as a reward. He read about agility of nightingales as well; it seems here the book was also right, which meant that he could learn much from his intruder if he played his moves right.

"Please, follow me." He bowed his head to the Bosmer, formally welcoming him as a guest and turned around to go towards the walled section, separating the living part of the tower. He noticed the absence of any footsteps behind himself, but a quick side glance showed that the thief was following his host close behind, and his every step was much lighter than any enchanted feather.

 _Thrilling._

He caught himself getting excited over an unexpected event but kept his face cold and uninterested.

As they reached a round dining table, with a move of a hand he asked the Bosmer to take a seat while he himself reached the shelves near the place, looking for a bottle of wine.  
"May I ask your name?" he asked, thoughtfully hovering over bottles with a searching look and not paying any attention to his guest.

"Paul," a joyful voice instantly replied.  
"And you?"

Finally finding a bottle of Cyrodilic Skingrad wine, Archmage turned towards Paul with amusement on his face. He didn't even know whom he was stealing from.

"Christoph Schneider." He placed the bottle on the table and moved to pick cups next--Dwermer ones, ignoring the pang of shame for wanting to impress his guest with silly displays of possessions.

"Schneider, eh?" Paul unceremoniously grabbed the bottle, reading its front then opened it up and sniffed the liquor. "Fancy Altmer's name. Never can remember them properly. Schnader. Schneider. Eh. So complicated."

Schneider gently removed the bottle from his hands and poured red liquid into the cups, ignoring the Bosmer's commentary about his family name. 

"Your wine, as requested." He finally set down in front of Paul and with a small clink of metal cups took a first sip, hoping to ease the thief's mind from the possibility of being poisoned.

Paul followed, taking a large gulp of wine with enthusiasm and purring into the cup from pleasure. "Now that's damn good wine! You magic people always have the best stuff!" he exclaimed and took another gulp, simultaneously looking around the room. 

Schneider was watching him, following the elf's gaze with his own while fiddling with his own cup. "So, what did you come for, Paul? If you do not mind my curiosity. " 

Bosmer shrugged and finally put his empty glass down, leaning back into his chair. "Some sort of staff that should be in this place. Fancy looking, big eye tipping, magic emitting." 

Schneider noticed his eyes giving him a side glance in hope that archmage would give away the location of the item. 

But that would be too easy for him. 

Instead he leaned forward and poured his guest more wine. "That sounds pretty magical. I believe you are in the right place." 

Paul laughed at the comment and grabbed his cup again, this time clinking the archmage's own cup first, pressing him to drink more. And he obeyed, taking a larger sip from his cup. 

"And who would want such a ridiculous thing in their possession, if I may ask." He sipped again, after asking the question, watching Bosmer drying up another cup in large gulps. 

"Ay! That would be.." Suddenly the smaller elf squinted and said with a dark voice.".. none of your business," and instantly burst into laughter, discharging the tension of what he just said. 

Such behavior made Schneider unwillingly smile and look away, hiding a small break in his stone cold facade. Maybe wine was a bad idea. 

"Fair enough. A man of business should be respected," he answered with a softer voice and finished his cup, instantly pouring more for them without any wait or asking this time. 

The following minutes were spent in calming silence. Both of the unexpected mer were deep in studying each other, looking at one another, around the room and deep in their thoughts figuring out the next move in their spontaneous game. They as well continuously filled their bodies with warathand relaxation from the alcohol. 

Silence was broken with unexpected curiosity from the thief. He finally settled in his seat, after finishing exploring around the mage's quarters with his eyes and looked directly at his host. This time his face was less sly, softened with genuine interest. Or so Schneider thought. 

"So. You're an archmage of all this?" He waved around with one hand. Schneider nodded and sipped his wine. "I might've heard about you. Rumors travel fast. Mages wreaking havoc, people running in horror from magic wisps and a hero of the day saving all and becoming the new archmage. That would be you." He pointed finger at the tall elf in front of him, reading his expression. 

Schneider's face softened. A small smile of shyness crawled to his lips and he nodded again.  
"That would be me." He looked down at his reflection on the surface of the wine and sighed. 

Paul hummed. "I think that's great, what you did. People can be stupid about magic but I think what you're doing is great." 

Schneider blinked at the thief and only now noticed that somewhere during them having this event he put down his bow, leaning it against the wall, along with his cloak being neatly hung on the back of the chair. He looked more comfortable and relaxed now, almost if they were two friends chatting and not enemies playing cat and mouse with each other. 

Well, they were not enemies. Schneider never met the man before and he was just doing his job as much as dishonored it maybe. 

But neither could he exactly call the man dishonored. He was pretty open and honest with Schneider so far, with obvious boundaries where they were necessary. 

"You're really beautiful." Schneider shuddered from unexpected words and shot his guest's confused look, realizing that he fell silent and got lost in his thoughts. The Bosmer was holding his face, reddened, from a copious amount of alcohol, with a hand and looked directly at Schneider, smiling softly at his confusion. Schneider felt that he was being charmed but couldn't quite figure out if it was some magic, Bosmer himself, or alcohol. 

He answered nothing. 

"Since I'm clearly not gonna walk away from such a power mage as you are with the staff..." Paul purred, putting heat in words of praising for maximum effect. "...can I at least steal his kiss?" 

Schneider's eyes widened in even more surprise, and he gaped at the thief unable to control the shock. But words still couldn't form on the tip of his tongue, and only cheeks going pink gave away that flattery reached its target. 

Slowly Paul got up and approached the other side of the table, placing himself in front of the archmage. Without hesitation he bent forward and captured his lips in a long kiss. 

_Thief._

Schneider frowned and felt Bosmer tensing in front of him, probably preparing to be pushed away or even worse. But to his and Schneider's own surprise, his lips answered the kiss as his large hand glided on top of the thief's dark-as-night armor, feeling the magic of enchantment tingling skin of his palm, until he reached Paul's face and cupped his cheek.

First kiss was followed by another that was followed by one deeper and hotter than the previous two. Schneider felt the rough skin of the thief's fingers caressing his face with soft touches, holding his face close in case he would suddenly change his mind and move away. Instead, he slowly started getting up from his chair, still kissing the man until their height difference made it impossible. 

They looked at each other with red cheeks and parted lips. Longing and excitement in their eyes. 

Reaching for Paul's face, Schneider gently stroked his cheek with a soft palm.  
"Will you spend a night with me?" He asked with uncertainty in his moves and voice. 

Paul's face lit up with a wide smile on his lips. He turned his head and placed a hot kiss on the center of the mage's palm and nodded against it. 

Without wasting any time they moved towards a bed placed in front of the fireplace near the table. Undressing in a hurry, tossing clothing on the floor around them, fearing that it all is just a trick of magical charms. But standing naked in front of each other proved wrong. Schneider felt a bolt of impatience shooting down to the bottom of his stomach and swallowed thickly, looking over the smaller man. He was extremely fit underneath the armor, as was expected from a man of his profession, and extremely packaged, as he read about Bosmers but never had a chance to witness, until today. He was openly admiring Paul and by the smug look on the face of the smaller elf, he noticed it too. 

Stepping closer, Paul gently pushed Schneider on the bed, making him lie down and followed by crawling on top of the taller man. Without waiting or invitation, Bosmer kissed him again, letting one of the hands travel down Schneider's chest, caressing skin with skillful touches. In return Schneider's hands landed on the Bosmer's body and, with a little bit of thought, he added magic to his touch, making Paul's skin tingle a bit from an unusual warmth and him shudder from pleasure. 

"Oh, that feels good..." he almost moaned in Schneider's lips, rewarding him with yet another passionate kiss. But too soon Paul pushed himself away from altmer's lips. He sat straight on Schneider's lap, adjusting himself and putting hands on his stomach for support before carefully moving his hips making his cock slide along Schneider's. He could hear Schneider inhale sharply and tug on the bed covers making him without wait move his hips again, setting a steady slow rhythm and looking down at their pressed cocks.

Schneider's hands reached for Paul, caressing his arms and pushing himself up, wanting to have another kiss but Paul didn't allow it. He put his hands at Schneider's chest, keeping him down and Instead lowered himself, kissing him deeply. His brows joined in concentration, hand moved down between their bodies, reaching for Schneider's cock and grabbed it firmly, making the man whine in the kiss. With a sharp bite on mage's lip, Paul held him and slowly moved his hips down, letting Schneider's cock slide inside his body. He groaned a bit, fighting pain over being stretched but didn't stop. Instead moving into sitting position again, shutting down his eyes and slowly lowering himself deeper. Suddenly pain started fading away, giving way to waves of pleasure from being full. 

Paul opened his eyes and glanced down, seeing low glow around Schneider's hands stroking his thighs.  
"Huh… I should do this more often with your kind..." he managed a remark in a breathless voice and threw his head back, raising and falling on top of the tall elf.

Schneider's hands kept stroking his thighs, moving to his round bottom, to hold him around his muscular torso, never stopping emitting healing magic around his skin, soothing the pain. His breath quickly became erratic and eyes were permanently glued to the smaller man repeatedly moving up and down on top of him, raising tempo with every trust, making his muscles tense with pleasure waves. 

Paul caught his hands in his, guiding them around his body, pushing himself all the way down with moans that started to become louder and louder. One of the hands escaped his hold, going down and grabbing him around his cock, caressing it with fast strokes. Paul cursed, tensing around Schneider's cock and grabbed on his thighs behind his back for the support, setting an even faster rhythm to match the pleasure waves in his stomach. Soon he was gasping for air, digginging his nails in mage's soft skin and cuming in his hands, never stopping moving his hips. He felt Schneider's hands lose their rhythm as he himself reached his climax, buried deep inside the Bosmer. 

He kept moving his hips until Schneider started tagging him to lower himself. With the last push Paul obeyed, falling forward on Schneider's chest and bit him with a final lustfull kiss before falling into the afterglow tucked in his neck. 

Thousands of moments later Schneider finally moved underneath Paul, carefully slipping from him but still holding close in his arms. That earned him a weak whine and the thief finally, dropped to the side, raised his head and propped himself on one elbow, looking at the mage with clouded eyes.  
"So..." he carefully placed a silent question. 

"I only ask you to wait until the morning." Schneider carefully stroked Paul's wet skin, looking deeply inside his large blue eyes, with a small fear of catching a lie there. "There is a storm outside and here you are warm and..."

"And?" Paul pushed slightly, curiously reading mage's face. 

"And I would like to have a conversation with you in the morning," he said with shame in his voice, hiding his eyes by reaching and placing a row of small kisses to bosmer's jaw, neck, and moving to his collarbone. 

Paul hummed, making Schneider shudder and freezing in one place expecting to be laughed at, or dismissed, or even worse. To see the man get up and disappear where he came from. But Instead he felt a hand on the back of his head, gently stroking his hair and slightly pushing to lay more kisses, to which he gladly obeyed. 

"Alright, Schneider." he purred under mage's soft kisses. "Morning it is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small notes for people who never played any of TES games:  
>  **Mer** \- Elf  
>  **Altmer/High Elf** \- light-skinned and tall Elves of the Summerset Isles. In the Empire, the name "High Elves" is given to the Altmer, with the word "High" being used to describe the Altmer as tall, proud, and culturally snobbish.  
>  **Bosmer/Wood Elf** \- Rejecting the formalities of the civilized world, the Bosmer discarded lavish living for a life in the wilderness, among nature, the trees, and animals. In fact, their major cities are actually located in giant walking trees that roam the forest province of Valenwood. They are known to be extremely agile and quick. Their nimbleness serves them best in any art involving thievery. Many are well respected archers, due to their inherent mastery of the bow.  
>  **Nightingales** \- A secret inner circle within the Thieves Guild, based in Nightingale Hall. The Nightingales exist to protect the shrines of Nocturnal throughout Skyrim. It is common belief that the Nightingales do not exist, and were simply created as a way to scare Footpads into doing what they are told.  
>  **Nocturnal** \- Is the Daedric Prince whose sphere is the night and darkness. She is also known as the Night Mistress and "Lady Luck." Worshipers of Nocturnal consist primarily of those who operate in darkness and night, such as thieves and spies.
> 
> Source: elderscrolls.fandom.com


	2. Chapter 2

Sun was shining through branches of the trees bathing Paul's skin with its warmth. He was lazing by himself away from the hunting party, lying underneath one of the many forest trees, pressed against its trunk. Not asleep but not fully awake either. Listening to birds arguing somewhere on top branches, grass rustles with a blows of the wind, tickling his bare feet. He knew he should join the hunt sooner or later but peace of his rest insisted on later with great persuasion. 

Suddenly, birds stopped singing and the wind came to a halt. He felt a cold raindrop on his cheek instantly followed by others. He frowned, and tried to wipe his face with his hand but rain was getting only stronger soaking him wet in a moment. He opened his eyes, looking around himself in disbelief until his eyes met a tall cloaked figure standing right in front of him. He looked up but couldn't make out the face underneath a hood. He tried to reach for his bow but it wasn't there either. Slowly panic started rising inside his chest and he tried to get up, but his legs weren't listening to him. The figure got closer and reached for him with its scaly pale-grey thin hand emitting red glowing magic. He shut his eyes again and froze in horror. 

With a gasp Paul woke up from a nightmare, swiftly sitting straight up in the bed. Horror filled eyes looked around, trying to find any threat, but nobody was around, not even his night's stay. He sighed in relief and tried to calm down his racing heart. He looked down, wiggling his toes, checking his ability to control his legs and smiled. What a weird ass dream. 

Tower was howling from the wind hitting its walls. It seems the storm wasn't planning on ending any time soon. Which wasn't really pleasant news for Paul since carriages don't really go this backshack way too much, meaning he would be forced to go on foot, against the snow all the way back. 

He frowned at the idea and shivered, enjoying the warmth of the fireplace on his skin. Only now he noticed the absence of any wood cracking and with a quick glance he realized that the fireplace was no more than a metal tub filled with fire salts. It made Paul smile even harder in amusement of mages’ way of adding comfort to their homes. 

Quietly he got up from the bed and gathered his armor left on the floor last night, putting it on. His stomach rumbled and he looked around, spotting left overs of breakfast waiting for him on the dining table. _Neat._

"Good morning." As soon as he reached for the piece of bread on the table, the calm familiar voice of the archmage greeted him. His host was busy writing down letters, sitting behind the same table Paul found him at yesterday. 

"I missed your pretty face in the bed." Paul smirked in return, chewing on the bread and checking what else there was for him to feast on. A stew, half empty bottle of mead and some roasted pork. He picked up the meat and put it on the bread. 

"Did you miss it while roaming through my possessions in the middle of the night as well?" Schneider's voice was controlled and emotionless, making chills run down Paul's spine. "I hope you found great enjoyment going through my closets." 

Paul frowned at his meal, wondering on the back of his mind if he was tricked into eating a poisoned food, and bit at his sandwich again. He was trusting his gut more than anything else in this world, especially his own brain. And his gut was calmly asking for more food and nothing about being in danger. "Oh yes! Next time you should put on that lucid robe hanging in there! It’ll look wonderful on ya naked body." 

He heard a quiet huff of laughter from the archmage followed by comfortable silence, as comfortable as it can get between two strangers bound by a night of joy and unfinished business. 

Grabbing another bit of meat, Paul moved to sit on a rock, lying in the alchemy garden in the middle of the tower. Underneath a tree with pink petals and flying orbs of light circling above various plants and flowers, he chewed on the last bits of his breakfast, letting his mind wander around, picking on small hissing of light orbs, scratching of a feather on parchment until it focused on the wild wind blasting against blueish windows of the tower, bringing more questions to his head. 

"Why don't you put the thing around the tower? Make it go.." With his hands he mimicked the burst of a bubble, like the one that mage's kept active on the lower levels of college to keep the storm away. 

Schneider stopped writing and turned to face the thief. He followed his gaze towards a large circle-shaped window with a magic eye stained glass stoically taking a beating from the icy winds and calmly answered. "It would be a great waste. Both for me to keep " _the thing_ " running and pushing away elements that give me powers."

Paul snapped his head towards Schneider, feeling excitement before the unknown rising inside him. "So you’re taming nature! Like yesterday, yes?"

A small condescending smile formed on Schneider's lips as he closed his eyes, focusing on the storm outside. He stretched his hand towards Paul, letting ice form around his fingers, repeating what he was doing the night before. Suddenly he felt warmth burning his freezing skin and snapped his eyes open seeing Paul standing next to him and touching his frosty hand with his curious fingers. 

"You are very silent." Schneider commented, opening his palm for Paul to explore. 

"And you're really..." Paul's eyes were glued to crystals formed on mage's hand, slightly pressing and tracing slippery formation with fascination. "...magical."

With a careful move, Schneider wrapped his hand around Paul's wrist, making chill from the cold run underneath his skin until it reached his shoulders and formed spikes on top of his shoulder pads and around his chest, creating icy armor. Paul exhaled a shaky breath with a little cloud that instantly flew to meet Schneider's own and smiled to the man in front of him. They froze like this for a couple moments, looking in each other's eyes and breathing out cold. But soon enough realization struck them. Paul stepped away as they both hid their curious eyes from each other, looking away. 

"As I promised. Now we shall talk about your business and my involvement in it." After a moment, Schneider finally broke the awkward silence, starting wiping melted ice from his hand and got up from his seat, avoiding Paul's searching eyes and putting on another faceless mask. 

"Yep," Paul hummed, making a note on the mage’s behavior, following him towards the more casual environment of two chairs in front of the garden and sat down across from Schneider. Archmage started his monologue shortly after they settled. 

"I am afraid what you are looking for is not here. And, as you would understand, I will not give away the location of the staff, despite our… affair." He paused for a moment, following dancing lights underneath the tree with his eyes. "To put it behind us right away. I am not regretting it. And I would assume, neither do you. I will admit, your company brought me unexpected pleasure. In more ways than the obvious one," he quickly added, slipping on his facade, making Paul, looking fixedly at his face all this time, smile proudly. "So you must understand that even after hearing your reasoning, whichever it might be, the conclusion of this conversation might bring me great displeasure in more ways than it should." 

"Money," Paul suddenly disrupted him. Schneider finally looked at his company with confusion written on his face. "My reasoning was money." Paul cleared out his statement and nodded for Schneider to continue. 

"I see." Schneider acknowledged his honesty with a small bow of his head. "Then I would ask for you to repeal the deal. The consequences of you taking the staff will be far greater than any payment would ever cover." Schneider pursed his lips, lowering his head in sign of heavy thoughts taking hold over his mind. Paul felt strong trepidation but kept listening. "I can offer you my help in return. A powerful mage is a great offer one would not want to pass. And… I have a feeling you might need help like this soon enough, if my assumptions about your client are correct. May I ask if you ever happened to see them in person?" 

"I did." Paul's voice was serious. Playfulness gave way to focus and full attention. "Twas a lean man with long white hair, wearing black robes. Not gonna lie, he made me skin crawl, but a coin is a coin, you know? Mage rivalry and all this stuff." 

Schneider frowned at the words, thinking over new information. His silence made Paul anxious; it wasn't the first time he would get himself into too deep of a dirt pit but doesn't mean he would enjoy digging his way out either. 

"I might have been wrong," the Mage finally spoke up, still looking somewhere beyond the place.

Paul visibly exhaled and smiled awkwardly. "Happens." He tried to cheer him up. "I think I'll take your offer. I might be a thief but not a greedy monster. I see when things are good and wrong." 

"Honor among thieves." Schneider huffed a laugh of relief, holding a smile after catching Paul winking at him as confirmation. 

_Would rather take money loss than spend the whole payment on shovels._

"Thank you." Schneider got up and reached out towards Paul with his hand. "Now you have a friend in the guild. I will be sure to repay my debt." 

Paul followed the archmage and took his hand, but instead of the offered handshake, placed a kiss on the knuckles. "I’ll be sure to get back to collect it."

Schneider afforded himself a bit of affection as an answer, stroking Paul's cheek with a gentle touch but a moment later he already moved away, hiding his face yet again. "I can open a portal to Riften for you, so you will not spend unnecessary time risking your life in this unmerciful weather." 

Paul crooked his brow, being surprised at Schneider's knowledge about their base of operation but didn't comment on it. "That would be nice. But I never used one of those before." Swiftly he moved to grab his bow and the cape, still laying behind the dinner table, where he left them last evening.

"Nothing to be afraid of. Just step in and you will be right at your point of destination." When Paul was back, Schneider already finished opening the portal. Now, at the middle of the hallway, there was a big purple swirling cloud, ready for him to step in. "Before you go… may I?" Schneider beckoned for him to come closer and put hands on his shoulders, making Paul feel the tingling of magic go deep inside his body. 

"What's this?" he asked curiously, following large hands traveling along his body with his eyes. 

"A bit of protection. Just in case you will run into troubles." A small treacherous smile came to light up mage's tinted with a bit of shame. "After all, I will be expecting you to come back for your repayment." 

Paul smirked, feeling a rush of pleasure from success in charming over such a powerful and beautiful elf. Without any caution he moved forward, going up on his toes, and placed a long kiss on Schneider's lips. Instantly he felt the elf’s lips tremble and answer his kiss, placing a glowing with purple light hands on his face. 

As soon as the glow disappeared, Paul tore himself from the mage and stepped into the portal, not even saying a last goodbye. 

He hated saying goodbyes.


	3. Chapter 3

Twirling light was mixing with darkness in an immeasurable length of time that felt like a fraction of an eternal moment pushing Paul forward along a tunnel, away from before into the forward. He tried to focus his mind to understand his surroundings but it was in vain as less than a moment after, with a rush of adrenaline, almost stumbling over his own feet, Paul jumped out of the portal into the fading grass at the outskirts of Riften. For a long moment he just waited, holding his breath, watching the purple cloud shrink until it disappeared into thin air, closing the link between him and the archmage's tower, left far away up at the northern coast of Skyrim. 

He felt his heart calming down and eyes finally adjusting to the brightness of the outside, compared to the semi darkness of the stone tower he was standing in a moment ago. Looking around, he recognized the alleyway hidden behind one of the rows of two-storey wooden and stone buildings, coiling inside the city walls, only a couple of minutes away from the temple’s graveyard with an entrance to “The Ragged Flagon.” 

He sighed, inhaling humid afternoon air of Riften, filled with a mix of burning wood, meadery fumes and nasty sewer water. Loud voices of running errands workers and traders on the main square trying their best to sell their goods bounced from the walls, reaching Paul’s, decorated with silver loops, ears.

"Home sweet home," he mumbled, smiling to himself and stretched strangely aching muscles, starting his way towards the graveyard.

For now, the plan was pretty simple. Find Richard, brag about his latest love achievements, smoke out the unlucky client of his, deal with him and… well. Probably a session of plotting his next move and making better life decisions should take place somewhere in there but that can wait. 

He made his way along the alleyways covered in shadows towards the field of gravestones and purple flowers of Nightshades resting beside the Temple of Mara, a couple of districts away from the portal place. Most of the city folks were busy with their work and priests of the temple were supposed to be in the middle of the morning mess, making the graveyard completely empty for Paul to sneak towards the old forgotten tomb on the far side of it. The familiar screech of rocks filled his ears as the secret entrance revealed itself underneath the stone coffin. Down in the darkness of the sewers he found his way along the mossy stone corridors towards the wooden door leading towards the “The Ragged Flagon” tavern. 

In the circle cistern-shaped room, where loud commotion of drinking and trading whitin shops neatly placed between arches of round walls never stops, thieves and unlucky beggars were trying to make a coin, with sly merchants only shrugging at their demands, while hiding treasures right behind their backs on the walls decorated with paintings and chests filled with wealth. 

Paul made his way across a stone bridge, laying on top of a basin of stale rain water dripping down from a skylight in the ceiling, and towards the small improvised tavern on the far side of the outlaw hub. He pulled his hood on and merged with shadows of one of the walls, studying present patrons and deals that were happening behind the long wooden counter. His eyes quickly noticed a familiar figure of a black furred Khajiit bartender engaged in intense conversation with a drunk Nord. He was dressed in his usual expensive looking merchant outfit made out of silky white shirt, sirwal black pants and a matching vest decorated with gold details and treads. 

"Three sapphire, two emeralds and a diamond," the Nord mumbled, putting said gems in front of the Khajiit whose tail was nervously twitching in subtle excitement. Man was too drunk to care to remove his not-as-subtle guardsman outfit made out of chainmail armor covered with purple cloth, only missing a plated helmet, to give better access for drinks.  
"Ri’charr sees no diamond. It is a glass shard at most," Khajiit squinted his bright blue eyes and took one of the sapphires in his long claws, turning it around in the candlelight with thoughtful expression. With a husky low voice he continued, "and the quality of those is quite bad. Khajiit will offer you ten gold for each stone and nothing for a "diamond". Khajiit will take it for free to save the Nord from embarrassment."

Guard swayed on his stool, either trying his best to keep balance or attempting to angrily pound the table with his fist. But failed miserably in either, grabbing onto the edge of the counter for support. He peered at the man in front of him, or rather tried to do so as his vision clearly was out of control with him squinting almost as if he had bad eyesight. After a long pause he finally grunted an answer, "Fine, you gnawed walking rug. 10 gold. For each!"

"Excellent! Ri’charr glad we have a deal," in one swift move of a clawed hand he swiped all the gems back into a leather pouch and put it inside his silky black vest. Next thing a small stack of 50 golden coins appeared in front of the drunk Nord. "Khajiit is happy to do trading with this one in the future."

Nord grabbed his gold, dropping a couple of coins on the stone floor of the tavern, and muttered curses towards the fancy dressed cat but left him at that. Slowly he got up and stumbled away from the tavern. Everyone knew better than starting fighting in The Ragged Flagon.

After the scene was finished, Paul pushed himself away from the wall, banding down to pick up the unnoticed coins on his way towards the vacant seat. He tapped one of them on the wooden surface instantly getting the attention of the Khajiit that was now busy attending to other patrons demanding refill. 

Pair of black striped ears turned towards clinking sounds shortly followed by the rest of the Khajiit, as soon as all drinks were served. Even without seeing Paul’s face, hidden in the shadow of his cloak, the man bared his cat mouth in a toothy smile, addressing him with genuine joy in his voice, “My friend!” 

"One day I will be back just to see Maven setting your tail on fire chasing you out of the city," Paul finally removed his hood and slid the coin towards his old friend, returning a warm smile. 

"At least I'll have a full bag of her gems with me," Richard laughed and poured a full mug of mead, not holding a single drop back. His bright sapphire like eyes shined with excitement and he leaned forward, his tail swinging behind his back in sly expecting movements, “So, how did everything go?” 

Paul took a big gulp from the mug, put it down and smirked, giving khajiit a squinted prideful look. 

“You sly dog!” Richard snorted, reading through the look on his friend’s face and added quietly, “Was she beautiful?”

“He,” Paul corrected him, fiddling with the mug's handle and smiling to his memories, still holding a vivid image of the archmage's flustered face in them, “Yes, very much so.”

“Oooh, I always knew you have it in you,” Richard winked and continued with a dreamy voice, “Maybe I should start doing more of the field work as well. Getting bedded across the Skyrim, hold all the beauties in my claws,” he almost purred, stretching out with a wide toothy grin.

“What, bringing mice to the fishboy's porch didn’t work out?” Paul took another gulp from the mug, holding a laugh from escaping him. But not a moment later his expression changed as he saw Richard’s grin drop and tail froze in one place. “Oh-oh.”

“I haven’t seen him in weeks,” he answered more calmly.

“Have you checked underneath Haelga’s bed?” Paul tried to lighten the mood but Richard only frowned deeper, dropping his voice even lower, going completely serious.

“I did. And every other bed in this city too. Go on, laugh,” Paul didn't, “He wasn’t showing up on his job, he’s not in any taverns, he’s not in the prison. I even looked at the Ratway.” 

“You think he left the city?” 

Richard only shrugged, visibly looking upset about the whole conversation. 

“I’ll pull some contacts, ask around. He probably just stuck legs up in some hay bale after some farmer daughter’s papa chased him away from underneath her bed,” after saying this he let the pause hang in the air, following Richard’s movements with his eyes. 

Khajiit man exhaled, ran his hand through the short black mane to the back of his head and turned to face his friend, warmth of appreciation in his eyes.  
“Speaking of which,” he started, “I don’t see any mystic magic staff behind you, your pretty lovebird mage chased your tail from his wizard tower?”

Paul huffed a laugh and shaked his head, “More complicated. The deal is off, it didn’t seem right.”

“You and your principles. Why is that?”

“Dunno, just feels..weird. Tickles me wrong.”

“Maybe it’s some fancy magic of his that is tickling you?” Richard squinted at his friend.

“Well..” Paul grinned, making Richard twitch his tail in a warning sign.

“Do I want to know?”

“Maybe some other time. I’ll tell you what… them mages...” Paul chuckled, wiggling his brows. 

Richard rolled his blue eyes and gently moved the tone of the conversation, “So, not even a tiny soul gem? Are you a thief or what?”

“Fine, you nosy cat-face, I got something special for you,” as Paul finished talking he fetched a small paper scroll from a bag on his belt and tossed it towards the Khajiit. “And with that I will be on my way, don’t burn the place while I’m gone,” he saluted the Khajiit, got up and starting moving away, towards the exit on the other side of cistern room.

“A fireball?! PAUL! A FIREBALL?!” Richard’s voice sounded furious, making the usually uninterested crowd glance at the commotion.

Paul only muffled the chuckle with his fist, ignoring the hysterical cat man and pulled on the hood, merging with the shadows. Memories of the “burned paws” incident coming back to his mind.

\----

Back outside wind changed its direction bringing to Paul's ears laughing and chanting of a crowd of people celebrating a wedding at the temple. It was the usual sight in the home of the goddess of love, that Paul secretly adored to witness, but today it felt somehow different. He felt a pull towards the temple. Strangely enough, not to look at the celebrations and try to join the careless crowd for a free feast or brawl some drunk for an easy gold bet. 

He loved the spirit of a new love but today his mind was pulling himself inside the temple, away from the commotion, deeper inside his own thoughts. 

He followed the pull and climbed the stone stairs entering the temple of Mara. Inside was a large dim lit chamber, the usual smell of incense was filling the air, making the feeling of comfort settle inside everyone who entered it. 

Paul stepped between empty benches towards the further wall with a bronze statue of the Goddess against it. Yellow glow of the surrounding candles lit her calm face and her spread arms, as she was inviting her children to come closer for accepting embrace. Paul stood in front of her image numerous times before, bringing small donations for the temple from time to time and disappearing afterwards without a word. He didn't believe in redemption of his soul but his faith was in priests and what they were doing for people around for giving them place of comfort and hope 

As usual, he pulled his leather pouch and fetched a couple of golden coins, putting them in front of the statue in a small, almost empty, bowl. Instead of instantly merging with the shadows, he lingered a bit longer, looking over Mara's calm face, almost expecting her to come alive and speak to him. A silly thought. 

Nothing happened. 

But pull still was present strong in his chest, refusing to let him leave the place just yet. 

He looked around, the chamber was still empty from any people after the just finished ceremony as well as no priests were in sight. With a bit of thought, Paul stepped away from the shrine and set down in the furthest darkest corner of the chamber. He closed his eyes, inhaling incense, feeling comfort and warmth spreading inside his body, and focused on his thoughts. 

At first it was darkness. Coldness of the Nocturnal grasp around his wrists, guiding his hands and whispering in his mind. Her familiar hold on his life troubled him before, but he grew to accept their deal and not to question the prince’s motifs. 

He pushed her away. 

Heartful laugh of his friend, the only friend, filled his memories instead. Richard's toothy smile and unruly tail. Days and nights spent in careless debauchery and adventures split between two of them.  
The evening in front of a campfire with mead and stories, his paws still in wraps, covering the burns after their battle with the Legion during crossing of the border. Yet he laughs and tells fascinating stories to Paul, almost as they knew each other for years. They met just a couple of days before that but now, both finally free and alive, they knew it might as well be forever ago.  
It brought a small smile to Paul's lips that quickly disappeared again as soon as recent memory came back to him, showing Richard in distress. Trouble maker he always was, unruly heart to match his tail.

He loved his friend and cared deeply about his troubles but pull still moved his mind further, making their last conversation fade into another memory. 

He saw himself lying on top of a large fur on the bed inside the howling mage tower. He felt soft fingers caressing his skin with a touch and wandering lips placing shy butterfly kisses. Slowly he turned towards his company, looking deep inside the pale eyes of the archmage. He was asking, without words, and Paul answered with the pleasure of his own, kissing him again. They finished talking an hour ago, holding each other ready for the night’s rest but the temptation to touch each other was too strong to give up just yet. Time after time their hands would start circling around one another and lips meet again and again. They kept it going until both couldn't hold the sleep away any longer. 

Later that night Paul got up in an attempt to finish his job. But before he proceeded with lurking, he allowed himself to linger a bit too long watching his sleeping lover. 

Paul focused on the image of elf's peaceful face surrounded by a mess of short curly hair. His mind froze, remembering every detail of that moment. The slow raising of the chest, the howling wind, the warmth of the fireplace, the hitched breath and tingling of desire to touch again.

"An unusual sight to see you stay inside these walls. A troubled mind? May I offer my help to resolve your confusion?" 

Paul opened his eyes, peering at a priest, with the dark skin covered in a faded yellow robe, that was now standing near Paul's seat. He looked at Paul with a warm smile full of kindness, expecting an answer but not pushing for accepting his offer. 

"Do I know you?" Paul asked dumbly, shifting in his place and looking behind his shoulder to check for any more surprises. It seemed they were still alone. 

"No. But I know you. I've seen your shadow bringing gold to our Temple before. But never approached to tell our gratitude," taking it as an allowance, the priest sat in front of Paul on the nearest bench and continued his thought, "I heard the call of my mistress that there's a person in need in her home. I came to see and saw the shadow looming in the corner."

Paul's eyes moved back to the bronze statue glowing in the light and smirked at his own thought just moments ago, standing there in the warmth of her grace. 

"What bothers you?" the priest asked. 

Paul shrugged and lowered his head, going back to search inside his mind, "A lot of things. But," again he saw the face of the tall elf, this time a moment before he jumped into the portal, "I guess..I'm not really sure." 

"It is a common trouble for those who seek Mara's grace. Please, continue." 

"I..don't know. I never..hmpf..felt like this before. I feel a strange pull and I can't understand," he paused again, picking the right words. A moment later he continued with a sudden question, "Is Mara accepting everyone? What I mean, this person..he is like me."

"When two souls find each other, it doesn’t matter. Mara’s guidance doesn’t divide her children by their appearance, all are welcome in her embrace," the priest answered with a warm smile forming on his lips. 

"I never felt like this before and I’ve been with a lot of people. Besides, I know him only for a day. That's a bit unreasonable to even feel like this..." 

Paul was interrupted with the priest's hand gently landing on his shoulder as he started talking, "Love is an adventure. For some it takes to only step outside their porch to find their soul partner. For others it's long and tiresome seeking. There's no judgment or rules. Follow the signs. Lady Mara will not leave the troubled heart without her guidance."

To Paul’s surprise, those words seemed right enough for him to not immediately burst in laughter. Instead, he gave the priest a short nod, just in time for the temple's doors to open as a bald, bearded farmer entered the quiet chamber, awkwardly looking around. Priest gave Paul nod in return and got up, leaving him alone with his new thoughts and feelings.

\----

Lake Honrich's surface was glistening with silver underneath the moonlight of a bright clear night. Usually calming water seemed menacing and emitted coldness from it's depth, sending goosebumps on Paul's skin. It was getting colder with every day, taking Rift into the autumn's sleep before the long unmerciful winter. 

He reached the end of the wooden docks and placed a lantern with a trembling flame on the light post. Usually busy with workers and fishers at any time of the day, the docks were calm and empty most of the days in the past months. Civil war was a great hindrance for honest work but a perfect opportunity for shadow lurkers like Paul himself, making places like this irreplaceable for late night meetings. 

The signal for his client was placed and Paul shivered, peering into the horizon of the smooth waters. Dark cover of the lake was hugging the stone city, stretching far towards the horizon with occasional islands peeking from the water. Boats were calmly swaying on the both sides of the docks. Being completely alone, Paul focused on every sound, expecting to hear steps or chatting of the approaching client from behind. But the only things there were moaning of the wooden boats and metal screech of the lamp, moving from the wind. 

With a sigh Paul ran through his mind, repeating his plan. It was simple, really. Meet the guy, tell him.. 

"Did you get the s-staff? It is too s-soon, I c-counted days. Did you get it?" an Argonian's hissing voice sounded from behind Paul making him jump in surprise and swiftly turn around to his sudden company. His eyes met the tall lanky body of a lizard-like man dressed in a black long robe, hiding almost everything but the tip of his long dark-grey face. Behind him was another person in whom Paul instantly recognized Richard's missing obsession.  
"S-speak elf!" Argonian repeated, pronouncing words almost as with effort, getting visibly angry.

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" Paul finally responded dumbly, bringing a light, cheerful but false smile. His hand casually fell to his waist, simultaneously placing it closer to his trusted dagger. 

"I don't have time for the play, elf. The s-staff!" Argonian stepped closer, into the light of the lamp, showing more of his face to Paul. He instantly noticed bright orange glowing eyes and unusually long fangs, hanging down on top of his lower jaw. Paul mentally cursed but kept his carless facade, meanwhile sharpening his senses. 

"Look, I don't know who you are and if you're working for the other blonde one but the deal is off," his hand wrapped around the dagger's handle, prepared to snap in an instant if the answer won't satisfy his twitchy vampire company, "The job got some complications so I'm out. Sorry about wasting ye time and all that." 

Suddenly the hood of the Argonian's robe got thrown away as a huge leathery crest on top of his head went up in anger. Argonian's face was distorted with it, revealing fangs even more in a nasty looking snarl. His black scales shimmered with gold yet looked faded and bleak, making him almost look drowned, revealing the severe state of his vampiric disease.

The lizard squinted his fire burning eyes and spoke with a low threatening voice, "That's-s why you c-can't trust them peaky-ears folk. You always find a way to screw s-things up, too s-slithery. What did he offer you? I c-can smell him on you!!" he almost yelled the last beat, approaching Paul closer as well as his tall Nord companion moved around Paul.

Paul started backing away, feeling changes in the air, tingling with magic he wasn't sure he liked, "If you need the thing, you can hire some other fool! We have a full guild of those, pick the one for your taste! No problem, no problem at all, I'll give you a discount even!" 

He felt the end of the dock with his feet and quickly glanced around, plotting his escape. But he didn't have a chance to make one. 

Argonian lowered his crest and suddenly stepped away, "I have a better offer, worm," he hissed in a low voice and nodded to his companion, “Grab the coward. Alive, if you c-can.”

Paul leaped away, dodging sudden attack from, bulky nord and pulled his dagger, pointing it towards him, “Hey, c’mon Till. It’s me, your kitty’s friend.” 

Till only growled and moved at Paul again, ignoring both words and the weapon. He looked out of his mind, peering almost as through the small elf.

“Don’t do this, big guy. Richard will kill me if I’m gonna scratch his lovetoy.” 

As soon as he finished, Till jumped on him, making Paul scared that he would land on the blade. He leaped away again, grabbing the light post and jumping towards a nearby deck on a boat. Not a second later, heavy footsteps stomped towards his new position and a heavy arm flew above his head in an attempted punch. 

“Hey there! Till, listen to me. We can work this out,” another punch flew past Paul as he dived down and hit Till on his ankles, making him fall down on the wooden boards. He loomed above the lying man, listening to low, almost painful, growls and seeing his glassy, empty eyes. If Till was there, he definitely couldn't help Paul right now. 

Paul cursed and dodged Till’s attempt to grab his legs. Slowly the big man got up and stared at him, almost as a bull ready to attack. With a roar he charged at Paul, making him run down the stairs, back to the dock. As soon as they reached the end of them, Paul leaped away, letting mindless Nord run past him and leap into the darkness of the lake.

Paul exhaled nervously and looked around, realizing that the Argonian wasn’t around anymore. Silently hoping that he was gone, he stepped closer to the edge of the docks, peering into the hidden in the night shapes of possible covers around boats and wooden boards of the dock. 

Suddenly, sharp claws grabbed his cloak and tugged it down, throwing him off balance and bringing down to the water. He didn't even have a chance to compose himself, he instantly felt long scaly arms wrapping around his chest and tagging him deeper towards the bottom of the lake. Paul pulled his dagger with a force smashing the blade against a thigh behind him, making the attacked him Argonian screech and let him go, disappearing in the darkness of the water with inhuman speed. 

Finally having a moment to regroup, Paul focused all his senses and made an attempt to dart towards the surface but it wasn't enough. Instantly he was hit with a huge force as the Argonian threw him down to the bottom of the lake and against the rocks. Paul felt unbearable pain from impact, air left his lungs and hand let go of the dagger. Panic started rising inside his chest but he kept it at bay, attempting another shot towards the surface. He quickly noticed his legs not listening to his commands, only arms desperately rowing. 

A sudden sharp pain in his neck made him scream, letting the air out. Lizard now was behind him, digging his fangs in Paul's neck and his sharp claws making their way underneath his armor, tearing his skin, leaving deep wounds and tugging him down, away from the surface. 

Paul jerked in the tight grasp of the scaly arms in the last attempts of escaping. Every thrust was bringing him more and more pain, making claws dug into his sides rip up more flesh. He tried to hit the Argonian with his elbows but slim body was hard to reach. He tried to knock him with his head but he was firmly holding Paul's neck with his jaw. 

Panic took hold of Paul's mind. His lungs were filling with water and life was escaping his body. All the strength remaining left his body, leaving him weakly twitching in the tight hold instead of trying to escape it. With the last bit of consciousness, he noticed a bright red glow around his chest, making his whole body boil in burning agony. It made him screech for the last time, letting out a column of bubbles, raising to the surface. 

His world went dark the next moment, spinning and twirling. He didn't feel the Argonian holding him anymore, or the coldness of the lake water, or fear from the last moments of his life escaping his grasp. There was only agony, and a voice in the back of his mind-- familiar and soft, filled with concern and determination. 

_"Stay with me."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Khajiit -** The Khajiit are Cathay and are recognizable by their feline appearance and their sly accent. Along with the Argonians, they are referred to as the beast-races of Skyrim. Because of this, Khajiit have a negative public image. They are one of the beast races which inhabit the continent of Tamriel, primarily their home province of Elsweyr. They are known for their natural agility, stealth, and their production of moon sugar, which can be refined into skooma (a drug). They travel around selling their wares but are not usually trusted, due to the racial prejudice of many of the races in Tamriel, resulting possibly from the belief that most Khajiit are thieves. They usually talk about themselves in the third person.  
>  **Argonian -** Argonians or Saxhleel are an oviparous race of reptilian people native to the large and marshy province of Tamriel known as Black Marsh. Argonians are one of the few races completely unrelated to men and mer, who think of themselves as coming from, and ultimately returning to, the Hist. Enigmatic and intelligent, the Argonians are experts of guerrilla tactics, and their natural abilities suit their swampy homeland. They have developed immunities to diseases that have plagued many would-be explorers in the region, and they are capable of easily exploring underwater locations due to their ability to breathe water.  
>  **Nord -** Nords, also known as Sons of Snow are a race of men from the province of Skyrim. The Nords have a natural resistance to the frost, which evolved due to their settlement in the northern, colder reaches of Nirn, and are known for their prowess as warriors. Some say that the Nords are famously hot-blooded in order to compensate for their freezing environment. Nord culture centers on the quest for honor and glory, with emphasis also on the family and community. Nords see themselves as eternal outsiders and invaders, and even when they conquer and rule another people; they feel no kinship with them.  
>  **Mara -** Mara, also known as Mother Mara, Mother Mild, and the Divine Mother, is the Goddess of Love, Fertility, Agriculture, and Compassion. She is also acclaimed as the Mother-Goddess, and is one of the Divines. Mara is also the patron of marriage, and the act of union is carried out at her shrines and temples. The Divine teaches that the spark of union between two mortals comes from within and is not based on appearance.  
>  **Whet-Fang -** The Whet-Fang are a twisted subspecies of vampires that live in the swamps of Black Marsh, where few Landstriders go. They are masters of the magical art of Illusion, which they use on potential victims to lure them deeper into their lairs and capture them alive. Serratus Peryiphim endows the victim with the typical characteristics of its sister diseases: increased longevity and nigh-immortality, immunity to disease, and a terrifying weakness to fire and sunlight. However, the Whet-Fang possess certain features that the other vampire races do not. Members of the Whet-Fang have glowing yellow eyes instead of the typical red. Their fangs are also longer and more jagged than a Cyrodiilic vampires’, resembling the teeth of a shark. Their skin is a sickly pale green color, given them the look of a victim of drowning. Whet-Fang are known to be fantastic swimmers, due to most of their lairs being found all the way or partially submerged underwater. They are masters at using Illusion magic, which they use to take over the minds of their victims and enslave them. They are also known to practice some sort of ‘life magic’, which they use to place victims in comas and slow down their aging process.
> 
> Sources: elderscrolls.fandom.com, uesp.net  
> Reddit post on Whet-Fang: https://www.reddit.com/r/teslore/comments/1zjr9x/whetfang_inquiries/


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